A Letter from the Editor: Vol. XII

WORDS by PENELOPE DARIO

I walked into my first strip club some time after my 23rd birthday with a close guy friend. It was early summer and we had just spent the day roasting on the beach drinking rose. Our usual tradition was to head straight for the oyster bar to ward off our impending heat stroke. While en route from the Rockaways to Maison Premiere, the Pumps billboard beckoned and we felt compelled to stop for a little beer and a show before completing our journey. It was mid- afternoon and there were only two dayshift dancers on duty. I remember watching a gorgeous, tan, long haired woman writhing on the pole behind the bar as I sipped my ice cold Corona feeling captivated by her confidence and allure. After her three song set she did her cash walk to collect tips from the patrons, I gave her some singles and praised her beauty as she sweetly returned the compliment.

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